What the Water Gave
by EggDropSoup
Summary: The village of Iwatobi is in trouble. Fish shortages and lack of rain have made the villagers restless. In order to appease the great Sea God, a sacrifice must be made. Makoto had always feared the water and now he finds himself in the position of the sacrificial candidate.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **This is all Eclst's fault. And so this is her story. It belongs to her, and all the craziness that comes with it. She introduced me to this fandom and I fell head first in love. Even named my car after Haruka. XD I'm so far gone, oh gosh. Please forgive me.

**Beta:** Eclst; I don't post up anything she doesn't approve. Check out her blog, the link is on my profile! :D She's a-may-zing~

**What the Water Gave**

By EggDropSoup

_Prologue_

"Uncle!" A young, sandy haired boy no older than seven called out as soon as he saw the small fishing boat settle onto the beach. He ignored the chiding "Makoto", and sprinted ahead of his father before he could be tugged back and made to wait. His short legs kicked up wet sand as he ran, causing one of his sandals to slip and become left behind. He reached the water, but two strong arms hoisted him up in order to prevent him from splashing in it.

"Is that Makoto?" the man asked, seeming to know the answer already- gray eyes sparkling from his old, weatherworn face as he removed the straw hat from his head to place on Makoto's own. "You've grown since I saw you last," he considered, and Makoto nodded his head vigorously, happy that the man had noticed.

"I'm a big brother now," Makoto volunteered, pride lacing his voice and he lifted his head up quickly only to lower it to prevent the large, straw hat from sliding off.

"So you are!" the man agreed, settling the boy down and onto his feet. He took Makoto's hand and guided him back toward the boy's father who cast him an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, he just couldn't wait to see you." Makoto's father chuckled, bowing his head in greeting. He had recovered the lost sandal and quickly grabbed a hold of Makoto's leg to put it back on before his son ran off haphazardly again.

"It's no problem." The man waved off with his free hand, turning back to Makoto. "I have something for you. A congratulatory gift to the new, big brother."

"Really?" Makoto's eyes gleamed with excitement, and his hands came up to touch the oversized hat, pressing the sides of it down against his cheek.

"Hold on now," the fisherman instructed with a laugh, giving Makoto's shoulder a fond pat. He gingerly eased his way back to his little fishing boat, reaching in for a blue and white ceramic vase, almost like a bowl, but tall enough to place flowers in. He handed it carefully to Makoto who held it with both hands to keep from dropping it. "What do you think?"

"Fish!" Makoto jumped, accidently swooshing the fish around in the bowl with the movement. There were three fish in the vase and they were small and white, with blue dots above their gills.

"Easy now," the fisherman reminded him, halting Makoto's antsy form with a hand to his arm. "They're fish I found today in the traps. Best to be gentle with them."

"Oh!" Makoto's mouth opened slightly and he took great effort to keep still and not jostle the vase any more than necessary. "These fish are from the sea?"

"That's right, I caught many more where these little ones came from." He pointed to the large, hand-woven net filled with flailing fish. They were all bound together in a pile kept near the back of the boat. "I reckon it's thanks to the Sea God that my catches have been plentiful."

"Sea God?" he asked. He had heard the name occasionally come up in conversation when going with his parents around the small harbor village. He also knew that his parents presented a large offering of their rice crops to the sea at the end of every harvest, loading packages of it onto a raft and having the village elder bless their home with strong smelling incense and whispered ancient words.

He never understood just what it was all for, but it was a reoccurrence in his village since he could remember. On his last birthday, his parents had brought him to the shrine and the village elder had rubbed warm fish oil onto both his cheeks and forehead, beseeching the ocean to protect him and guide him as he got older.

It was then, on the walk back home and with his hands held in both his parents' own, that he asked them. His parents had both smiled quietly, indulgently patting his head and promising that he would one day understand too. And here, the Uncle he had befriended was giving him that same smile. A smile that _knew_ but couldn't _tell_, eyes looking at him and contemplating on whether to pass it off or to answer as simply as possible for a child to understand.

"Yes, the Sea God," the old man answered quietly. "He is the one who provides us with all that our village needs to survive. Without him, we would have no fish, no rain."

The line between Makoto's brows wrinkled as he listened, mouth puckering slightly. "He is…He is good?" he managed, still not really grasping just what this Sea God meant to the village, or to himself. But if the Sea God gave all these things to his village, then it would reason for the Sea God to be good. Right?

The old man laughed, prompting quiet chuckles from his father beside them. "Yes, Makoto, the Sea God is very good." He knelt by the boy, grinning and patting Makoto's shoulder. Makoto didn't understand just what was making them all smile at him so big, but he returned theirs with a big, answering grin of his own.

"But remember Makoto," his father was then saying, smile faltering slightly when the wind began to pick up, whipping at the sleeves of his yukata. He guided Makoto by the hand to stand in front of them so that the boy was shielded from the strong gusts. "The ocean is very big and deserves our respect."

Makoto stared at them with puzzled eyes, not sure what they meant and the two adults fixed him again with those indulgent smiles.

"Yes," the old fisherman agreed, his next words cryptic and mystifying to young Makoto's ears. "The water gives, and water takes away."

"You understand, Makoto?" his father asked.

Makoto nodded, looking down at his wet, sandaled feet nervously- still no closer to finding the answer he needed to put everything together. But he knew now, something inside him was changing. A strange inkling in his heart that made the blue, deep water around him seem ominous somehow. Strange and dangerous.

He cast his eyes to the sea and watched the white caps atop of the waves collide into each other when a strong wind blew by. Hearing the story of the Sea God had made him anxious, and he wondered just how such a being could exist. Neither his father nor the old fisherman noticed his discomfort and Makoto nearly sighed in relief when his father was saying goodbye and pulling him away.

When they arrived back to the village, Makoto soon forgot about the anxiousness he had felt that day hearing about the Sea God. Makoto did his best to take care of the fish the fisherman had sent him home with. He fed them, changed out their water and visited with them every day. He did his very best, but they only lasted a few weeks before he was preparing a burial for them behind his house. A small vase of flowers and a large rock for a grave stone the only indication that they had existed.

He didn't know it then, but looking back, he should have recognized it for the strange foreboding feeling he felt before hearing about the good Uncle's disappearance. The old fisherman had gone out one day as he always did, but he never returned when the skies grew dark and the ocean became rough. It wasn't until a few days later that another fisherman had chanced upon wreckage of the old fisherman's ship and when news came of no body being found, Makoto and his father knew at once that their old friend was gone.

The words the fisherman had told him echoed in his mind from then on,_ "The water gives, and the water takes away."_

Makoto never went near the ocean again, and the only swimming he ever did was in the controlled knee-deep expanses of his family's rice farm. He barely ever went near the river, except to indulge his young brother and sister and to collect water for drinking. But he still stayed far away from where the river mouth met with the Sea, and vowed to never go in for fear that he too, would be taken away.


	2. Chapter 1

**X-posted to AO3.** I am more reliable with updating there as of late. So please check there for this story as well.  
><strong>Beta:<strong> Eclst and SereneIceDragon

Japanese terms used:  
>fundoshi: a loincloth, the traditional underwear in feudal Japan<br>waraji: flat sandals, woven together with rice straw usually  
>Kosode: basic Japanese robe for men and women. Can be used as an undergarmentovergarment.  
>chabudai: traditional, small Japanese coffee table used in feudal Japan.<br>Irori: traditional fire pit found in the middle of the main room of Japanese houses.

* * *

><p><em>Ten years later…<em>

"What if something happens to us?" Ran had asked, clutching tighter onto the back of her oldest brother's kosode. Ren, beside her, seemed to have grown alarmed at her words and did the same, causing both of them to drag behind him like a plow, leaving curved grooves in the path from where the backs of their waraji dug into the dirt.

The action caused the front of his clothing to give under the loose cotton belt at his waist and he pressed a hand to keep it in place as he turned around. "It's alright," Makoto assured, immediately stopping to kneel between them and clasp both their hands. A scattered bunch of people passed them by, casting curious glances and whispers their way, but he didn't acknowledge them. "I will be with you. As long as we stay together, we'll be fine."

The twins both stared at him dubiously, their eyes flickering over to the shrine up ahead. A large crowd of the other villagers had already started to assemble and they could see the priests and village elder preparing for an announcement.

He moved his head so that his face blocked the ominous scene entirely and continued in a soft assuring tone, "Nothing will happen to us. And if something does, we're family. Family always finds each other, no matter what. Alright?" he said, removing a worn strip of linen from the front flap of his clothing to wipe the dry dirt away from their bare feet.

He hoped the warm smile he gave them coaxed away the fear that had no doubt been slinking around their village for weeks. Their village of Iwatobi had caught very little fish and squid that summer, their main exports being from the nearby sea; and the lack of rain made maintaining his family's rice farm nearly impossible.

They barely had any food in their own home. Even with both himself and his parents working out in the fields, it wasn't enough. The future seemed too uncertain. What if the situation surrounding their village continued? How could they guarantee both Ren and Ran a successful future if they did not receive an education? Arithmetic and calligraphy were a growing necessity in Japan now that there was increased trade with the Western world. Ren would need to learn to read and write to hold his own in this new age. He'd need skills that neither Makoto nor their parents could teach him.

And Ran. Sweet Ran. How would Ran find a good husband with her family's poverty holding her back? They had nothing to offer for her. No soft silks, no money for classes to learn skills and etiquette. No impressive lineage. Makoto knew that Ran would grow up to be beautiful, just like their mother. But beauty wasn't enough. Even her cleverness and wit was valueless in this society. You were only as valuable as what you owned or what you could buy. And he feared for both his siblings and the unknown future ahead of them.

When the twins had calmed, he stood up, keeping hold of both their hands. "Let's go," he urged, tugging them both forward gently. They stepped with him easily. "We just have to be present for the announcement. As soon as it's over, we can play with the little white cat near our house," he promised, earning a small, subdued smile from them both.

They reached the crowd, but could not move further up because of their earlier straggling. Ren and Ran could not see anything from where they were beside him, but Makoto was tall enough to make out the village elder standing on the platform in front of the shrine. Dressed in expensive silks, her long hair was coiled high atop her head and she looked out at them all with her painted, pale face.

Ran tugged at the cloth leggings around his shins. "Has anything happened?" she asked, glancing around and using her hold on him to steady herself as she stood on tip-toe.

He shook his head, about to reply but stopped when the two priests beside the elder moved forward, each holding onto the side of a large basin full of water. The two priests slowly carried it together and placed it in front of her.

"I have had a vision," the village elder announced when they moved away, and the crowd hushed in their murmurings, giving her their complete attention as they all waited in silent anticipation. Their only hope was that she could offer answers for the long drought and lack of food.

"We, of the Iwatobi Village, have long been selfish. We have spurned the sea god's good graces and have not properly shown our gratitude for his protection and his blessings. Our village's suffering is surely punishment for this and we will continue to carry out our penance until we offer him a sacrifice worthy enough of his magnitude," she added and stepped forward until she was right in front of the large basin. The water in it rippled, distorting her reflection as she stared down into it.

"One of our own will be chosen to fulfill that honor. Lord Nanase's spirit will guide me in choosing the stone marked with the chosen one's family name," she told them and a few gasps and fearful curses came from the crowd at the realization. The elder meant for a human sacrifice this time.

Instantly, the crowd reacted. A woman in front of them was already sobbing, clutching her young daughter to her and whispering hurried prayers to the sea god that they would be passed over. A few of the people nearest to the platform were screaming in outrage, demanding another course of action but the elder bluntly refused. "This is the only solution. The family of the tribute will be compensated," she told them, ignoring any other outburst as she turned her attention back on the basin.

The crowd's panic instantly affected Makoto. His breaths came out uneven as he glanced around frantically, watching as a few people in the crowd began backing away from the platform, as if to run off and resist. But before they could bolt, they were intercepted by priests who had surrounded the crowd during the elder's announcements. Each of them holding a weapon in their hands to stop any fleers from escaping. And while the villagers were too intimidated by the weapons to confront the priests directly, that didn't stop them from jostling each other and moving around the outskirts of the crowd like a school of fish caught in a drifting net.

Nowhere to run. They were caroled like sheep before the wolves waiting to know which one of them would be devoured.

A large man collided into his back, and Makoto forced himself to remain upright as he guided both Ren and Ran to his front, intent on shielding them from any harm.

"Oniichan?" Ren asked, his voice thick with worry and Ran mirrored his fear and confusion as they both looked up at him. But Makoto couldn't bring himself to answer as he watched the village elder kneel before the basin and dip her hand beneath the water.

A few seconds was all it took before she pulled out a small stone and turned it over to examine the name carved onto it.

Makoto felt his body tense instinctively when she turned her head and caught sight of him and the twins. Her eyes were different now, the gray in them appearing fierce and raging like the sea during a storm.

She smirked at him knowingly and Makoto's heart trembled as he pushed both Ren and Ran behind him protectively. She raised the stone in the air, and he knew that it was fear that made his blood run cold, the first true fear he'd felt since that day ten years ago.

"The candidate will come from the Tachibana household."

* * *

><p>Makoto's last night in the village was spent in suffocating and unforgiveable heat. They had opened the shoji doors in their house to allow the night breeze to flow through, but it didn't make it any more comfortable. Instead, the aggravating heat only made the atmosphere laden with despair seem more tangible and hopeless.<p>

He sat across his parents at their small, battered chabudai near the irori. The bamboo bowls and wooden trays from their dinner still remained scattered in front of them. It had been a simple meal, pathetic by most standards. Yet, to the Tachibana family, it had been the biggest meal they had had for weeks.

"They will come for me in the morning," Makoto had told them, staring ahead. He was so focused on keeping his voice steady that he didn't register that his hands had reached down to grip at his ankles anxiously. Neither he nor his parents could bring up the subject during dinner, knowing that the twins could hear. It had been an unspoken agreement between the three of them that they would address it as soon as the twins were put to bed. He only hoped that the extra helpings he had given them from his own bowl had left them feeling full and sleepy enough that they wouldn't eavesdrop.

"Maybe they'll reconsider," his mother added, bringing a hand to her chin worriedly. "We'll reason with them. Have them send away your father or I instead."

"No, they had wanted…" he paused for a moment, his words faltering at being unable to express it so bluntly. He turned his face away, aware that his cheeks were burning from embarrassment. "They wanted the candidate to be unmarried."

"_A virgin_," _the village elder had insisted when she had barged into the home after the gathering, stone carved with the Tachibana name held tightly in her hand. "The candidate must not have lain with another." _

His hands tightened on his ankles as he continued with, "We are lucky she agreed that it could be me and did not insist on taking Ran."

His parents had been dismissed as choices immediately, and the village elder had been intent on taking Ran and sacrificing her as a bride to the Lord Nanase, but Makoto had thrown himself before her.

_"Please!" he had said, taking great care to position himself between the elder and the back room where the twins were hiding. "Do not take her. Take me, instead." _

_The elder was momentarily taken aback by his outburst, surely she expected resistance, but she hadn't expected to get a volunteer._

_"And what can you offer to a god?" she had demanded, looking down her nose at him when he had knelt to the floor in a deep bow._

_"I am young and strong," he had told her. "I can offer my servitude to the god for the rest of my life." The elder eyed him critically, taking in his broad frame and the strong shoulders underneath the plain, thick work clothes. When she didn't speak further, he plowed on with, "Would I not be the better choice instead of sending my sister, who is still much too young to serve as an adequate bride? He would have no use for her and the other villagers would not stand for another family to be chosen based on default."_

_He raised his head enough to look up and she met his gaze, her dark eyes hardening as she knelt to lay the stone with his family name in front of him. "Your observation is a valid one. The candidate has been decided then," she had announced to the quiet room, acquiescing to his request. "Priests from the shrine will come for you in the morning. Should you leave and try to avoid your commitment to the village, you will not be the only one to be sacrificed." She gave a pointed look over his shoulder towards his parents and Makoto's chest tightened in understanding at the implied threat. _

_When she left to go back to the shrine to make preparations for the ceremony, she slid the shoji door hard behind her; causing the frame of the old house to rattle in protest. Makoto remained where he was, kneeling on the floor and taking in everything that had just happened. His parents did not move from their side of the room immediately, both too petrified from fear and horror at having heard their oldest son's fate._

"You don't have to do this," his father leaned forward, slamming his hand down hard onto the chabudai. "We can go. We can all leave the village tonight."

"It's too late. I already agreed," Makoto argued, shaking his head sadly. "They promised compensation at the gathering for the family chosen and forgiveness of debts. Use the money for clothing and food. Hire tutors for Ren and Ran-."

"What good are those things if we lose you?" his mother burst out, bringing the hand at her chin up to cover her eyes. She couldn't hold back her tears anymore. "And the sea! How can we send you to be thrown into the sea, when you…" His father moved to put his arm around her and pull her close when she continued to cry.

Makoto hadn't missed what she had meant. "…when you fear it so," was the rest that wasn't said aloud.

"It's true, that I am afraid," he admitted, casting his eyes down to where the fingers around his ankles pressed hard into his skin. He wondered if there would be bruises in the morning. And though he knew he should move his hands away, he couldn't find it in himself to stop. "The sea has always been frightening since that day. But I can bear it. If my thoughts are with all of you then I can bear it all."

"We did not want this for you," his father said, arms still around his sobbing wife. "This life. Your mother and I have only wanted the best for you. We should have been able to give you everything."

"You have given me everything," Makoto insisted, raising his head up and facing them both directly. "Every day, you've shown me that I was loved." He smiled, and it was a bit easier now because what he was saying was the truth. He was proud of them, his family. He wanted them to always know that.

"Makoto," his mother whispered, her tears halting and she looked at him with a mixture of awe and pride. His father mirrored her expression and Makoto wondered just how he appeared in their eyes. They certainly must think he had changed in the last ten years.

But Makoto knew that he hadn't changed so much that he didn't hug his parents when his mother turned to him with a watery smile and opened her arms to him. Nor did he change enough to not want to sleep in the same futon as his siblings for the last time.

Makoto closed his eyes and hoped, that no matter where the sea took him, the things he loved the most would always remain close to his heart.

* * *

><p>Makoto was pulled from his futon before the dawn when the priests came for him. They whispered to him in hushed tones as they forced him to dress and leave the house. But he did not hear them, walking slowly and listlessly behind them. His mind was in too much of a haze from having hardly slept the night before.<p>

When he reached the shrine, the priests began the purification process. He did not have time to be embarrassed as four priestesses stripped him of clothing, even going so far as to remove his fundoshi and jerked him around the changing room, each woman moving so fast and abrasively that Makoto did not know where to focus his shame from being naked.

They bathed him, and rubbed sand collected from the seabed over his body, before scraping it off. Oils were rubbed into his skin. His nails were trimmed and polished and his hair was furiously brushed and combed through. They painted words and symbols along his forearms and spine with soft, calligraphy brushes. He had thought of asking the priestesses what they meant, but before he could, they forced him to dress. In robes that were far more expensive than anything he had ever owned or seen. When it had reached midday, the priestesses left the room, and allowed his family in to say their last goodbyes.

"Makoto," his mother called to him the minute they were let inside, pressing a hand to her mouth in an attempt not to cry. His father stood by her side, his eyes narrowed in pain as he kept his hand on her back in quiet support. The twins were with them, looking anxiously from their parents to their brother.

"Mother, Father," Makoto said as he approached them, his eyes closing briefly to allow himself a shaky breath. He did not hug his parents right away, but first he bent down to draw the twins into his arms. "Ran, Ren, don't be sad."

"You're going away, Oniichan," Ran whispered when he drew back from them, eyes wet. "You promised we would be together always."

"I haven't forgotten," he answered quietly, trying to keep his voice from growing tight. He placed a hand to her hair, touched her cheek. "We will be together."

"But you won't be here," Ren piped up from beside her, his hands clenching at his sides as he stared angrily at the floor. Unlike his sister, he refused to meet Makoto's gaze as the tears from his eyes trickled down his cheeks. "You're going away. How can you keep your promise if you're going away?"

"Ren," their father said softly, but neither he nor their mother could bring themselves to further admonish his outburst. Makoto's mother chocked back another sob, her shoulders shaking as she forced herself to hold it in.

His heart broke for them all.

"Yes, I am leaving," he answered calmly. "But didn't I tell you? Family always finds each other." He shifted, and pulled Ren into a hug, not letting the boy stubbornly pull away when he tried to and eventually, the anger on Ren's face caved to the sadness he had been hiding behind it.

Ren latched onto Makoto's shoulders and held on, sobbing into his shirt loudly. Ran hurried into his arms right after, and he held them both for as long as he could, knowing it was a matter of minutes now.

He reluctantly pulled away from his siblings and looked at his parents. Both of them seemed at a loss, but his mother was the first to approach him and touch his face tenderly, cupping his cheek.

"Makoto, you look so handsome." His mother's smile twitched and she swallowed. "Such a handsome son I have. I always hoped one day that you would get married. It feels like the gods are giving me one last gift to see you this way. I only wish it could come along with you having a bride."

Makoto laughed softly and took her hand. It was smaller than his own now, and he hoped that by holding it he could pay back all the strength and love she had given him through the years. "Next, you'll be wanting grandchildren."

"I wouldn't mind," his father said dazedly, reaching out to grasp his shoulder. "The twins would like it too." Makoto didn't have to glance at the twins beside him to know that they were smiling approvingly at the idea. He nodded, trying his best to smile genuinely at them all in turn. He couldn't bear to say anymore false assurances. The broken promise that they would find each other again was enough to eat at his insides. Instead, he pulled his parents into a hug and the twins joined in too, clinging to his sides as his parents clutched desperately onto him from the front. They stayed like that, all together until a rapping at the door caused them to break apart.

"The procession for the ceremony is beginning," one of the priests called to them, insistently. "You must lead us along with the village elder."

"Yes, I'm coming," Makoto answered and stepped backwards so he didn't have to lose sight of his family until he had to. The twins' faces were becoming distraught again, and Makoto knew that prolonging his departure would only hurt them more. "I will make you proud," he blurted out before he realized it, and internally scolded himself at having made another promise.

Just another one that you won't be able to keep, his mind whispered, as he shoved the sliding door behind him open.

"You already have," his father answered, and Makoto forced himself to exit the changing room and slide the door shut behind him before his last ounce of resolve broke.

He followed the priest out of the shrine and tried to ignore the loud wailing from the twins still in the room. And even though he succeeded in joining the village elder at the head of the procession line, he felt a piece of his heart chip away with every heavy step he took.

* * *

><p>It was time.<p>

The priests hurriedly waved fumes of purified incense over his robes, his face, and his hair with feathers and dried river reeds. It smelled so strongly that he coughed several times when he accidently inhaled some of it – earning an unhappy growl from the priests before they knelt to check his waraji and make sure there was no dirt upon the soles of his feet. Rough hands smoothed out visible wrinkles from the expensive robes that hung off his broad back.

When they were satisfied that he was presentable enough, they let him go to face the gathered crowd. The whole village had assembled around the river, anxiously waiting to see what would become of him. And even though he had grown up knowing every single one of them, not one of the villagers looked upon him with pity or sympathy.

Hunger and desperation had long since changed them. He could see the relief on their faces to know that the one to be sent to the sea god was not them or their loved ones. Makoto didn't blame them; there was no way he could bring himself to. Relying on the benevolence of an unknown god was all they knew, and all they could think to do. He let out a nervous breath and scanned the crowd for his family.

His parents were there; in the very back. His mother's face was in anguish, already lost to sorrow and despair. His father stood beside her, supporting her with an arm around her shoulder. His face a blank mask, but Makoto could see that the warmth had left his eyes when he looked up at him. The only thing in them now was grief. The twins were not there, and he decided he was happy they weren't. They didn't need to see this. He just hoped that they could forgive him for leaving, could remember the happy times they spent together.

It made his heart ache to know that he would never tell them he loved them ever again.

"It is time," announced the village elder, signaling one of the priests to silence the crowd with a series of loud banging on her gong. Two priests that were built larger than him, escorted him on either side. A single cry came from the crowd and a woman fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Makoto wanted to break away from the men beside him, and call out to his mother, but instead he clenched his hands at his sides. A quick glance at the village elder told him he had made the best choice to not resist. He had no doubt his parents and siblings would be punished if he were to stop the ceremony now.

It took all his willpower and self-control to allow himself to be lead to the middle of the bridge. They turned him to face the river mouth, where he would be sent directly into the sea. They tied two heavy cotton bags filled with food around his torso and made him stand up straight to support the weight of it all.

"Oh, great Lord Nanase," the elder began, chanting along with the slow tapping of the shrine drums. "Acknowledge our offerings. Make our catches plentiful with fish and our skies abundant with rain. Deliver us from our hunger and suffering."

The other priests joined in with the chant and a few voices rose up from the crowd of villagers, also pleading with the god to listen to their prayers. It continued for several more minutes before the elder turned away, her eyes were dazed and she was panting slightly from being out of breath. She nodded at the two priests beside Makoto and they both took hold of each of his arms and bodily pushed him up against the ledge of the bridge.

Their hands gripped his wrists so tightly that he didn't think he could fight them off even if he wanted to.

"The ceremony is finished. Send the servant to Lord Nanase and to his fate."

Makoto heard a heart-wrenching cry from the crowd as he was hoisted over the railing. And then, he fell into the river, the fast current pulling him down and forward to the sea. The further the water moved him, the farther away from the light he became and soon he couldn't tell the difference between what was up and down anymore. The last thing he remembered before becoming part of the darkness was the taste of salt upon his lips.


End file.
